History & Ancestry Repeating Themselves

Everybodys familiar with the expression “history repeats itself” but I noticed that this also applied to ancestry.

On my maternal side of the family (Coynes originally from County Mayo Ireland) the following patterns were observed:

Grandparent Patrick Coyne and other relatives worked in coal mines in the midlands of England. I worked two summers in a rock quarry (strip mining of feldspar) in Middletown CT paying for college. I’ve been told that Patrick Coyne worked double shifts in the mine giving his exta pay to his ill brothers family since jolly old England wasn’t so jolly with no financial safety net. Thankfully I did not experience such dire circumstances in the USA. However, I have done my share of double shifts during my 30 years working weekends as a security guard helping to pay bills to stay above the financial water line here in jolly old USA.

Rumor has it that grand dad Patrick Coyne had to leave Ireland in a hurry in early 1900’s since British authorities were hunting for IRA members and sympathizers. Again, my circumstances have not been so dire. However, depending upon the turn of events, circumstances and storm clouds swirling in the USA, maybe having options and alterntives might be advisable.

My mother watched every presidential nomination convention. It might have to do with the fact that she had the opportunity to attend the convention in Philly when Harry Truman was nominated. Fast forward to today when my tv channel is set to C-Span, Washington Journal, History Channel, Book TV and various other think tank, wonky discussion channels. Like her, I’m a self described news, history, and politics junkie.

Late at night my mother wrote and submitted articles to Readers Digest. I published a novel titled Mall Child and I’m an avid blogger, writer.

Two of my uncles were affiliated with the Providence RI police department (one on the beat and the other in the office). A cousin is a retired District Attorney. I dabbled with cop and criminal justice careers never fully taking that plunge. However, I was an auxiliary cop in Norwalk CT and a Volunteer In Probation during intermittent stints in the 1980s. I logged over 15 years working weekends as a mall cop in Trumbull CT so I remained on the fringe of that career path.

My mother worked for the CT Labor Department in Middletown and in their Wethersfield headquarters as an Employment Counselor striving to get persons employed. Guess what my last job was before I retired? Employment Counselor at Laurel House in Stamford CT doing largely the same thing. I didn’t plan this career scenario. It just happened.

On my paternal side of the family (the Dunn’s originally from Ireland specific county of origin unknown) the following patterns were observed:

Dunn ancestors migrated to central Connecticut (Portland, Middletown, Middlefield ) getting their working start in the brownstone rock quarries of Portland in the 1840’s (so they fortunately were pre-famine Irish immigrants). Fast forward to me working in the feldspar rock quarry of Middletown during summers in the 1970s. Even more ironically, I worked in the Portland quarry erecting fencing and even took a swim in the quarry on one of those hot summer days. Now the Portland site is converted to a nature/adventure park complete with a zip line over the water in that closed quarry.

My dad worked over 30 years (mostly on the midnight shift) patrolling the campus of Wesleyan University in Middletown CT as a campus cop. He had a front row seat to the Vietnam war protests, building take overs, and the firebombing of the Malcom X House. He lamented the increasing level of rowdyness and destructiveness of students particularly during spring break. He also saw his share of tragedies among students including mental breakdowns and a suicide. He opted for retirement in his sixties after e confronting a burglar in the campus bookstore. He was unarmed and the burglar fled (thankfully). As a mall cop, I had no where near the level of intense experiences that my dad encountered and that includes seeing action in the Pacific front during WW2. However, I found myself immersed in some mini-riots when kids run wild especially on the day after Christmas fueled by social media, boredom, disrespect and moral decay. I too was first to arrive at a suicide scene. I too decided to retire in my sixties when a shoplifting incident went wild with a victim straddled the hood of the suspects car. The vehicle barrelled head-on in the direction of my security vehicle. Thankfully this game of vehicular chicken was averted at the last second. The victim slid off the hood without being injured and the suspect exited the property without further incident. Like my dad many years before, that’s when I decided to turn in my service belt.

My dad and I both shared an aversion to mathmatics and mechanics. Crunching numbers and fixing stuff was not our forte.

What we do share is a receeding hair line and baulding scalp. That’s why I found my most reassuring, consoling voice when my oldest son who is approaching age 30 observed that his hair is thinning and his hair line is receeding.

I gently reminded him that “history and ancestry” repeats itself. Understant it and do not fear it.